


On a Wednesday In a Café

by motherofalphas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mentions of Abusive Relationship, Namely - Kate, One Shot, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:33:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherofalphas/pseuds/motherofalphas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek loves Wednesdays. He always has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a Wednesday In a Café

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even know what this is to be perfectly honest. I was just listening to Taylor Swift’s Begin Again and suddenly all I could see was shy and heartbroken Derek being approached by Stiles at a coffee shop and yeah… this happened.
> 
> There are mentions of an abusive relationship Derek had with Kate before the events of this fic. It is all very, very subtle but you should know in case it might be triggering. 
> 
> It's been ages since I've written a fic and while I have a million of Sterek fic ideas, this is the first one I've posted. I hope I'm not too rusted and if I am, I apologize.

It happens on a Wednesday. Derek loves Wednesdays. He always has.

Lately, he also loves minding his own business. All Derek has done for the last eight months is mind his business, actually. Ever since… well, since _then_ , he became a shy, retracted version of himself. It is better like that, anyway. No one bothers him and he doesn’t have to deal with anyone other than his family and very few, but great, friends.

Which is why he is now sitting, all by himself, on this cute coffee shop he liked to visit on his days off, which were Wednesdays. For two years now, this had been the perfect place. Derek loved coffee but most of all, he loved a great coffee shop and this place was just heavenly. Old furniture decorated the place as well as some lovely nineteenth century paintings. The coffee was served in porcelain cups and the little cakes were simply the most delicious thing Derek had ever tasted. He even had a favorite spot, right next to the big window that had a view to the street.

Sometimes, when he was feeling melancholic, he would just stare out the window, lost in his thoughts with the cup long forgotten in the small circular table in front of him. Other days, though, he sat down and wrote on his small notebook. Thoughts, quotes, silly dreams he had, anything. He just wrote and drank coffee. And it was perfect. 

He had always liked this coffee shop but after… _after_ , he found it to be his safe haven. The one place where no one asked him if he was doing okay or stared at him with pitiful eyes as they wondered if he was broken beyond repair. He was. He is. But his sisters and his friends thought he could go back to his old self.

They still hoped he would love someone again. Even now, they still try to set him up and get him to go out and while he is thankful for the effort, he knows deep down he will never be the same. Not after her. Derek now knows that love doesn’t last. All it did last time was burn everything. And it _had_ burnt him. But he had come to terms with it and was no longer wishing and hoping for things to fix themselves. He just carried on. And what did he do? He minded his business.

So after eight long months of doing exactly that, it is natural for him to be more than just slightly surprised to have someone interrupt his writing time. He had been doodling a little coffee cup like the one waiting in front of him while remembering the details of the weird dream he’d had that night when he feels a body stop right next to him.

Derek tenses for a moment before looking up and landing his eyes on this guy. This _incredibly attractive guy_ who is just staring at him, small smile tugging at his lips. Derek feels his lips part in surprise and he knows he probably looks silly but he doesn’t know what to do.

“Hi,” the guy says, smiling a little more.

“Um, hi,” Derek replies dumbly.

The guy scratches the back of his head, looks down and then rakes his hand through his already wild-looking hair.

“So, um, this is probably very, very weird but I was just sitting over there with my buddy Scott and I saw you sitting here and I…” he bites his lip and Derek can’t help but land his eyes on the guy’s mouth. He quickly glances back to the guy’s eyes, but he feels the light blush crawling up his cheeks.

“You see, I’m working on this photography project for my class and, well, I was wondering if you’d let me take your picture? Maybe? I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Derek lifts his eyebrows in surprise and looks down at the mess of papers in his small table. He clears his throat, raises his head again and nods slowly.

“Great! Let me just…” He pulls the chair in front of Derek and sits down, pulling a Polaroid camera out of his bag.

“What do you need me to –”

“Oh, just carry on with what you were doing,” the guy says smiling.

Derek frowns.

“Okay…”

He picks his pen up again and continues his attempt to capture the little porcelain cup in his notebook. He hears the click of the camera and looks up expectantly.

The guy smiles at the photograph and then locks eyes with Derek. He turns the polaroid in his hand for Derek to see.

“You look beautiful, dude.” he says.

Derek blushes furiously this time and shakes his head.

“No. I-I… I’m not beautiful.”

“Yeah okay, you’re handsome.”

“No,” Derek says forcefully. “I’m just… _I’m not.”_

He swallows with difficulty, feeling rude for the way he just said that. Shyly, he looks up to see the guy’s reaction. He thinks he sees the guy frown slightly before smiling again and shrugging.

“You _are_ but alright, I ain’t pushing. Thanks for that, you’ve saved my ass here. I’m Stiles, by the way,” he says reaching out his hand across the table.

“Derek.”

“So, what were you sketching before I rudely interrupted you, Derek?” Stiles asks him, leaning his elbows on the table and looking like there is no place he’d rather be.

Derek feels strange because he cannot imagine any reason why a guy like Stiles would sit around with him. And didn’t he have a friend waiting? Derek looks over Stiles shoulder to find his friend gone. It is probably the reason Stiles is sticking around, so he doesn’t have to return to an empty table. Derek feels disappointed but immediately shuts the feeling out. What was he expecting anyway?

Remembering Stiles had asked him a question, Derek clears his throat.

“Um, just… the cup?” He makes it sound like a question and mentally smacks himself. She– _Kate_ , he _needs_ to be able to say her name to move on– _Kate_ used to say he sounded like a retard when he talked like that.

Derek expects to see Stiles react the same way but he just laughs and leans in even more.

“The cup? Like the little guy in The Beauty and the Beast?”

“Well, this one isn’t chipped but yeah?” Again with the talking in question marks. He really sounds like a retard, doesn’t he?

“Awesome, man. I love that little guy. And his mom. Hey, draw Mrs. Potts!”

“Well, I sort of need to have the object in front of me to draw it. I can’t draw without reference. All I have here is a generic coffee pot and I don’t think Mrs. Potts would appreciate me making her all… glassy,” Derek finishes lamely.

Stiles laughs. And Derek’s entire being shakes with the sound. _She – Kate –_ never laughed at what he said.

“Yeah, I’ve always found it weird that they have such an ugly coffee maker when the rest of the place is so vintage.”

Derek feels himself relax. He smiles. A genuine smile that feels foreign on his face after so long.

“Yeah, it’s the one flaw of this place.”

After that, the conversation flows smoothly and Derek finds himself laughing more times than he had for the last year and a half. And he finds Stiles laughter mesmerizing. The way he throws his entire body back laughing, like Derek’s words are the greatest, most hilarious things he’s ever heard.

When they both realize it, daylight is long gone and the coffee shop is empty apart from them and the staff. Smiling, they get up and pay their bills. When they get out and the chilly night air hits them, Derek feels like waking up from a dream. He knows they will part ways and never see each other again. But he can’t help but wish they didn’t and he knows he is being stupid.

Because there is no possible reason for someone like Stiles to talk the evening away with someone like Derek and still want to see him again. It is stupid to be even thinking these thoughts after everything but Derek finds himself unable to stop _hoping._ So as they walk quietly to Derek’s car, he decides to savor those last few minutes.

When they reach his car, Derek turns to say goodbye to Stiles but right as he opens his mouth, Stiles speaks first.

“Hey, want to come have some coffee with me tomorrow?”

Derek freezes.

“Um, I have work tomorrow. Today is my day off.”

“Oh.”

Derek braces himself for the inevitable goodbye this time. Because what else could happen here?

“Next Wednesday, then?”

Stiles eyes look hopeful. Derek bites his lip. He is tempted to say he can’t, because he knows sooner or later Stiles will get bored and leave. Just like she did. He opens his mouth again to finally say something and is interrupted yet again.

“Or we could go to this great art gallery that’s a few blocks away. My friend Lydia works there and there’s some amazing pieces. There’s even one with a girl in a coffee shop! You’ll love it.”

Derek just looks at Stiles as he describes the paintings and how his friend Lydia told him to visit but he just hadn’t had the time and if Derek couldn’t make it on Friday or the weekend they could meet up on Wednesday at the coffee shop and go from there. And suddenly, all Derek wants is to keep listening to Stiles. So he nods.

“Okay, next Wednesday.”

Stiles smiles so wide, it’s like the night suddenly turned into morning.

 

* * *

  

Derek still feels amazed whenever Stiles treats him nicely. Which is all the time so Derek lives in a constant state of amazement. He knows it is silly now, after all time they have been together. But after everything with Kate, he can’t help it. After eight months of abuse, of cutting words and bruising looks, Derek really can’t help it.

Whenever Stiles gets home with Derek’s favorite ice cream just because, Derek will stare at him in awe. Stiles will just laugh and kiss him on the cheek before going to the kitchen to serve them both some Rocky Road.

Derek still looks down to his feet awkwardly whenever Stiles bursts out laughing over something funny he says. He still looks away when Stiles compliments him and his cooking and his drawing and his writing.

He still feels like crying whenever Stiles tells him how smart he is. Or how beautiful.

“You’re perfect,” Stiles says.

“I’m not,” Derek always, always replies.

“Well, to me you are.”

Derek feels like running when that happens. And sometimes he did. Scared the crap out of Stiles and Derek would end up apologizing long after Stiles said it was okay.  But it is as if he is living a fantasy and he lives afraid of the day it will all end. Because how could it not? But somehow, Stiles proves him wrong. He always proves him wrong.

And slowly, Derek starts believing him. And his life suddenly stops feeling like a dream he could wake up all a lone from. It starts feeling _real_. And after twelve months, Derek’s vision of love changes. But this time, it doesn’t burn him to the ground like the last. It lights him up. Until the day he realizes he is not broken anymore.

“You’re perfect.”

Derek stops typing on his computer and looks over at Stiles at the end of the couch, where he is watching him with a small smile on his lips, book long forgotten on his chest.

“You are.”

“I am if you are,” Stiles says, smirking.

Derek stills. Stiles just keeps watching him, smirk turned into a soft smile again. Because Stiles knows. He always did. And he kept waiting for the day Derek would believe that he truly was worthy of being loved. Stiles didn’t save Derek. He just helped Derek save himself.

“Then I guess we’re both perfect.” Derek says after a while.

Stiles should know better than to jump on him with a laptop standing in the way. But the bright smile and the “I love you so much” and “You _are_ perfect” Stiles keeps saying in between kisses are worth the sharp pain of a laptop burying itself on Derek’s thigh.

 

* * *

 

 Wednesday had always been Derek’s favorite day of the week. When he was 10, because that was the day his Uncle Peter would come to visit. When he was 18, because it was when he had basketball practice. When he was 22 because it was his day off and he could go to that coffee shop. And when he was 24, because he met Stiles.

When he is 25, Derek proposes. It happens on a Wednesday.

It just feels right, Derek thinks.

Stiles agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr!](http://motherofalphas.tumblr.com)


End file.
